


Unintentionally Smooth

by sleepymccoy



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Canon dating, First Date, Flirting, Fluff, Kisses, M/M, Making Out, Professional dating, Public Display of Affection, Sexting, hickey, implied sex, mild s and m play but nothing much, semi public making out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-01-21 08:07:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12453156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepymccoy/pseuds/sleepymccoy
Summary: A whole bunch of short one off Paul/Hugh ficlets





	1. Flirt

Stamets is actually pretty good at flirting, he just doesn’t intend it. He’s used to saying what he thinks, it’s just that thinking compliments is relatively new for him. **  
**

—

“She was flirting with you,” Paul said pointedly as soon as the turbo lift doors closed.

Hugh turned to look at him, incredulous. He stared for a moment but Paul was ignoring him, so he rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Curse of being a doctor,” he smiled.

Paul glanced at him in exasperation and looked away again. “What, exactly, does your profession have to do with it?” he asked.

Hugh turned to fully face him, still smiling in amusement at Paul’s serious expression. “Plenty of people mistake my saving their life for a declaration of love,” Hugh said. It was occasionally an inconvenience, but almost all of the crushes people developed for him tended to fade within a week. The girl in question today was not a concern, Hugh had cured her barely three days ago.

“Eyes like yours, can you blame them?” Paul muttered.

Hugh was suddenly overjoyed to have been already watching Paul, because the second Paul heard his own comment his ears and neck went softly red and he looked about three times more pissed off. 

“Lieutenant Stamets,” Hugh said once he knew he wouldn’t chuckle halfway through the sentence. “That was very smooth.”

Paul glared at him and crossed his arms. “Shut your pretty mouth, Culber,” he said.

Hugh laughed out loud in delightful surprise. “My pretty mouth?” Hugh repeated happily. “First my eyes, now my mouth, what’s gotten into you?”

Paul ignored him. The turbo lift slid to a stop and Paul stepped out, glancing back at Hugh. Hugh puckered his lips in a kiss and enjoyed the sight as Paul’s blush crept onto his cheeks. The doors slid shut on Hugh laughing to himself again.


	2. Earrings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugh wears his great grandmothers earring for the first time in a while and Paul shoudn't've been as surprised as he was

Paul watched happily as Hugh strolled across the room to greet him. He looked good, better than usual, and Paul was taking a minute to get used to it before Hugh started to flirt with him. He was wearing an absurdly tight shirt with a very well tailored waistcoat over it and Paul was enjoying the sight. He also had some jewelry that Paul hadn’t seen on Hugh before. 

 

“Are those earrings?” Paul asked once Hugh sidled up next to him.

 

Hugh smiled. “Yeah, this isn't a ‘fleet dinner so I thought it'd be within protocol.”

 

Paul liked Hugh’s smile, especially this one. He looked a little shy and it was deeply endearing. “When did you get them pierced?” 

 

Hugh laughed, rolling his eyes. Paul waited for him to get over whatever it is he found amusing and tell him. 

 

Hugh looked at him, his eyes crinkled. He studied Paul, his smile fading. Suddenly he frowned. “Wait, you're serious?” Hugh asked. 

 

“Did you do them for tonight?” Paul asked. 

 

Hugh glared at him for a second, took a sip of his drink, then turned to Paul. “Paul, I got them pierced when I was fourteen,” he said, the annoyance clear in his voice. He shook his head, clearly exasperated. “You didn't know. And we've been dating for how many years now?”

 

Paul cringed. “Well, you've not worn them before, have you?” he mumbled. 

 

“I certainly have, dear,” Hugh snapped.  

 

They fell quiet for a moment. Paul wasn’t quite sure how he’d done this so badly, he didn’t remember Hugh wearing earrings before and he couldn’t see how it would be offensive if he had forgotten. Paul sighed, glaring at the glass in his hand. “Why are you annoyed with me?” he finally asked. 

 

“You know why.”

 

“I don't,” Paul moaned, “I forget shit like this all the time, it doesn’t usually bother you.”

 

Hugh paused, still looking at his glass. “Because you don't like them,” he muttered.

 

Paul frowned. “I haven't said that.”

 

Hugh put his glass down and crossed his arms, turning to face Paul. He had his shoulders hunched slightly forward, making him look so uncomfortable. “You've never commented on them, and you've actively forgotten that I wear earrings. You don't like them.” 

 

“Hugh-”

 

Hugh interrupted him “I don’t have to wear them.”

 

“Hugh,” Paul said loudly, forcing him to be quiet for a moment. “You look hot with them in.”

 

Hugh froze, watching the ground. Paul could see the cogs ticking in his mind. Hugh tipped his head to the side and smiled slightly. 

 

Paul leant forward, catching Hugh’s eyes. “Hotter than usual, I mean,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

 

Huh grinned at him. “Yeah?” he asked silkily.

 

Paul reached out to trail his fingers up Hugh’s jawline to his ear, softly pinching the lobe next to the piercing. It was nice, a small diamond stud. Worthless in today's lack of currency, but still nice against his skin. Hugh leant his head into Paul’s touch, chasing the contact. 

 

“Yes,” Paul muttered, “Very hot.”


	3. Single

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One of the ensigns who works for Stamets decides to ask Doctor Culber out. Going to Stamets for an in might have worked except that Stamets likes his boyfriend to be his own.   
> Set before the events of Discovery, so not everyone's figured out that they're dating yet.

Paul stood at his counter, taking a moment to remember where he was up to in his code. Hugh had just stopped by to check up on Ensign Randall’s leg and had taken a minute out to confirm that Paul had remembered to try and finish his work off on time today for their dinner date. Hugh was still in the room, chatting to Cadet Tilly about her first physical tomorrow and what to expect. 

 

“You and Doctor Culber get along?” 

 

Paul jumped slightly at the interruption, turning to face the man leaning against his desk. It was Randall, who Hugh had been complaining about the night before. Paul sighed and faced him. “Occasionally. What do you want?” 

 

“D’you know if Culber is single?” Randall asked. 

 

Paul felt his eyebrows raise in surprise despite himself. “Why?”

 

“I think I've got a shot with him,” Randall said, still looking right at Hugh. 

 

Paul didn’t laugh, but it was a challenge. He spent a few seconds sorting through his emotions, deciding if he was jealous or entertained. He settled happily on entertained. 

 

“He's seeing someone,” Paul said.

 

“Ah, too bad,” Randall bemoaned. Paul turned to leave but Randall spoke before he could get away. “Can you imagine it?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Paul asked. Hugh was clearly making his farewells to Tilly, who he’d made blush at some point, and Paul had remembered that Hugh still had his report to proof read and he needed it back by the end of the day. Paul started to leave to catch up with Hugh.

 

“Culber,” Randall said, not noticing Pauls’ desire to leave. “He's a complete turn on. I don’t even know what I’d do with a body like that if I could get at it.” 

 

Paul stared at him. Randall started to look uncomfortable after a few seconds. Paul turned and left, catching up with Hugh at the door. 

 

“Doctor,” Paul said to greet him. Hugh turned and raised his eyebrow, already looking disapproving. “The report I sent you last night, could you get that back to me soon?”

 

Hugh nodded calmly. “Certainly, Lieutenant. It was interesting, I have a few notes on the areas you highlighted that should assist.” 

 

“Thanks. Give me a kiss,” Paul said calmly.

 

“Excuse me?” 

 

“Randall wants to ask you out and I want him to stop talking to me about it.” 

 

Hugh glanced at Randall then back to Paul. He didn’t say anything but he reached out and tugged on the front of Paul’s shirt, pulling him in. He kissed Paul chastely on his lips for a few solid seconds then pushed him gently away again. 

 

When Paul opened his eyes Hugh was smiling openly. He patted Paul on the chest firmly then curled his hand into a loose fist and rested it against his chest, his finger scratching the fabric along the way. “I’ll see you tonight,” Hugh said, and left without another moment. 

 

Paul chuckled and looked over at Randall. Randall was standing very straight with a slight blush. He nodded at Paul, who really didn’t care now. Paul walked off to his mushroom farm to check how the new composting regiment was going. 


	4. Anomoly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stamets is needed in engineering. The ensign sent to collect him interrupts a bit more than she wanted to.

Ensign Kimber hurried along with the Padd Lorca had flung at her, trying to remember the details of the message she had to communicate to Lieutenant Stamets on the way to engineering. Lorca wanted to make a jump, a complicated one, something about a minor black hole sitting in the way. 

 

Kimber reached Stamets’ quarters and took a moment to try and catch her breath before ringing the bell, she wanted to appear somewhat professional, despite sprinting the length of the hall. She rang.

 

Twenty seconds passed in silence, so she rang again. At least she wouldn’t be out of breath when Stamets opened his door.

 

The intercomm on the wall flicked on. “It’s Culber, what is it?” 

 

Kimber hesitated. She knew, of course, that they were dating but she hadn’t been quite prepared to encounter it herself. “Doctor Culber,” she responded, “I’m looking for Lieutenant Stamets.” 

 

The comm was quiet for a little longer than she expected, then Culber responded, “He’ll be a minute.”

 

Kimber stood, waiting as patiently as she could manage. She’d get a telling off if Lorca reached engineering before her and Stamets, but there wasn’t much she could do to hurry him along. 

 

Suddenly, the door opened and Doctor Culber was standing in the way, a slight smile on his face and absolutely no shirt on. Kimber kept her eyes on his face very diligently. “So sorry to keep you waiting, he was, ah, in the shower,” he said. She saw some movement behind him, but couldn’t catch enough to recognise what it was. Culber seemed to be taking up as much space as possible.

 

“Hugh where’s my other sock?” Stamets called out. Culber’s eyes widened slightly and his smile became much more real. “When did you even get my sock off?” 

 

Culber laughed and nodded at Kimber, stepping back to let the door close. “I threw it ov-” she heard him say before the door cut him off. Kimber stood at ease, this was clearly going to take longer than she wanted. 

 

With nothing else to do, she re read the open page on the Padd she had, so that she was sure she would summarise it correctly to Stamets once he was finally out. It took another forty seconds and the door opened. 

 

Stamets was in the doorway, pulling one shoe on and very messy hair. “What is it?” he asked sharply. Culber had a hand on Stamets’ shoulder, holding him steady as he struggled with the zip.

 

“Captain Lorca wants to do a jump shortly, but he’s concerned that there’s a celestial anomaly in the direct flight path,” Kimber said. 

 

“What’s the anomaly?” Stamets asked. Without being asked, Culber passed him his other shoe. Stamets began to pull that on while Kimber responded.

 

“There’s a black hole directly between us and our destination, Commander Saru suggested a simulation be run first.”

 

Stamets frowned. “I’ll run the simulation, but I’m telling you now, the black hole’s not going to make a difference.” He turned to Culber. “We don’t take a direct route, we take the fastest route regardless of the physical distance involved, like beams of light in water. And we take multiple routes every time, spinning off and using the spores memory lines as our path, not actual space, we take every route at once-”

 

Culber quietly rested his hand on Stamets’ neck, his thumb against his chin. Stamets went quiet, looking at him closely. Kimber looked away, not sure what to do with open affection in front of her. “How about you go tell your engineers instead of me,” Culber suggested. 

 

Stamets grinned and laughed. “You’re so good to me,” he said happily.

 

Kimber glanced back up and saw Culber kissing Stamets on the corner of his smile. She cleared her throat. “We need to leave, sir,” she muttered, staring at the floor again.

 

“Right,” Culber muttered. Kimber looked back up and Culber was fixing Stamets’ hair. Stamets was gazing at him, a smile playing across his lips and an eyebrow raised. “Alright, you look professional again,” he said, turning Stamets around and giving him a bit of a push to get him walking.

 

“I’ll be an hour or two,” Stamets said, “Don’t wait up.”

 

“Don’t wait up? I’ll be watching you biomonitor signs until your back, honey,” Culber said cheerfully. 

 

Stamets looked like he wanted to leap into Culber’s arms right there, but Culber took a step back and stood inside the doorway. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

 

Stamets pointed at him. “Yes you will, dear,” he said happily. Culber smiled and turned inside, letting the door shut behind him. Stamets turned to Kimber. “Well, let’s not keep Lorca waiting,” he said, and immediately walked off at such a pace that Kimber had to hurry to keep up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (they were fucking, in case it wasn't clear)


	5. Not Incompetent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugh runs into Paul in the hallway. They've only been on the ship for a week or so and Paul is still getting accustomed to Lorca. Just a moment of professional behaviour and quiet support between these two.

Hugh had finished a relaxing lunch with the head nurse, going over their shift so far and other successful surgeries they’d performed. He was still chuckling over her description of assisting  a xenosurgery student as they performed an emergency gorn birth - octuplets - and how the student’s language was as dirty as the room once the event was over. Hugh rounded the corner and spotted Paul a few feet ahead of him. “Lieutenant Stamets,” he called out in greeting. 

 

Paul stopped and turned, looking up from his Padd. “Doctor Culber,” he said politely. Hugh caught up with him in two steps and they fell in line, walking to the turbo lift together. Paul turned his Padd off quickly and turned to Hugh. “How’s your day?” he asked.

 

Hugh smiled. “Very good,” he said happily, “I had that surgery this morning, managed to reattach Ensign Lee’s ear with 83% of her own flesh salvaged.”

 

Paul smiled at him. “You weren’t expecting more that 70%, well done,” he murmured.

 

Hugh grinned, glancing at Paul. Paul raised an eyebrow back at him, making Hugh chuckle. He was very happy to take that compliment. “Thank you,” he said, “I am, apparently, very good at what I do.” 

 

They reached the turbolift, Paul reached out to press the button, calling it to them. “I already knew that, Hugh,” he muttered. He looked over at Hugh and smirked. Hugh felt his chest warm up a little at the expression on Paul’s face. They watched each other for a moment, enjoying the quiet togetherness.

 

The lift arrived, dinging to alert it’s presence and breaking their brief connection. “How are you?” Hugh asked as Paul stepped on. 

 

Paul chuckled, keeping his back to Hugh as he plugged in which levels they want. Hugh let the silence build some weight, giving Paul a few seconds to respond. Paul sighed. “I’m shit,” he finally said. The lift started to move.

 

“Isn’t it harvest day? That’s usually a good one,” Hugh said. 

 

Paul sighed again. “Lorca’s been over at The Glenn getting a guided tour from Straal of their operation, he just called up to let us know that he wants the same tour here,” he said, the annoyance tangible in his tone.

 

“You can handle Lorca,” Hugh said.

 

Paul looked at him, starting to get animated in his complaint. “Straal has a more gung ho attitude to the spore drive, I have a more research and code based approach,” he said, his arms waving out in his frustration. “That’s why we’re good research partners. That’s also why Lorca is going to ask me to be more like Straal, and I refuse to stoop to Straal’s level.”

 

Hugh put a fair bit of effort into not smiling too obviously at Paul’s harsh exaggerations. “What’s the problem?” he asked. 

 

“Lorca’s gonna prefer Straal’s method, and I’ve got to convince him I’m worth keeping while still making sure I don’t get Straal fired for incompetence.” 

 

“Straal’s not incompetent,” Hugh pointed out, a slight question in his tone. 

 

Paul rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure you, me, and Straal are the only three who know that for sure, though.”

 

The lift arrived at Hugh’s level, it quietly listed off the departments on the floor as the door opened. Hugh nodded confidently at Paul. “He’s in good hands,” Hugh said, stepping towards the door.

 

Paul flapped his hands once and, exhaustedly, said, “No he’s not.”

 

Hugh paused outside the lift, looking back at his increasingly pissed off boyfriend. “You’ve got this, darling.”

 

“No I don’t!” Paul said tersely.

 

Hugh grinned at him. “I look forward to hearing about it tonight,” he said, throwing Paul a thumbs up as the doors shut. 

 

“What the-” Paul got cut off when the doors closed. Hugh stood there for a second, listening to the turbolift continue down to engineering. He smiled, Paul was going to be fine. Lorca was unkind, but he knew how lucky he was to have Paul on his ship. Besides, Straal had set himself up firmly on The Glenn and wasn’t at risk of jumping ship. 

 

Hugh was looking forward to hearing about it that night anyway.


	6. Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a formal event to attend, and Paul gets both annoyed and entertained as Hugh takes fuckin ages to get dressed

Paul turned the shower off, hoping he hadn't misjudged the time and wouldn't make them late by taking a water shower. He let the pressurised air force the majority of the drops off him before stepping out. He'd left his dress uniform out on the counter so he pulled his pants on immediately, leaving the jacket for later as his hair was still slightly damp.

 

He wandered out to see how late Hugh was running.

 

Hugh was standing with his back to the bathroom entrance, completely naked. Paul paused for a beat and took in the sight, enjoying the harsh shadows his body conjured. 

 

Hugh sighed and looked from the edge of the bed where a pile of white fabrics lay to Paul's chair.

 

“You're not doing this again, Hugh,” Paul groaned.

 

Hugh glanced around at him. “Just cos you don't give a shit about how you look, Paul,” he chided, his gaze sweeping over Paul's shirtless form.

 

“I care,” Paul said, wandering over to his side of their bed. “I care that I look professional and clean, you just take it to a whole other level.”

 

At least Hugh had finished tidying his hair and beard already, that was the most time consuming part of these events.

 

Paul sat on his bed, reaching under it to where he kept his formal wear shoes. It took a moment of groping in the air for his hand to encounter them, but before long he was pulling them on.

 

“Why do you have three formal uniforms anyway?” Paul asked, rubbing a scuff mark off his right foot.

 

“They're for different sorts of events,” Hugh said. He pointed at the white pile at the foot of their bed. “This one is my normal medical dress uniform.” He waved a hand towards his cupboard “That one is basic sciences formal wear and slightly less dressy.” Hugh turned around, holding a deep blue and black paneled uniform shirt up to his chest. “And this one is for fancy dignitary type stuff.”

 

“What are you choosing between?” 

 

“Medical or the really formal one.” Hugh looked at both options in disappointment.

 

Paul considered for a beat. “It's not a diplomatic level event.”

 

Hugh threw the formal shirt aside, picking up his white jacket and studying it. “The event isn't, but some of the guests are high brow.”

 

Paul watched him for a few more seconds, enjoying the curve of his back as he leant back, looking critically at his medical pants. “Oh shit, Hugh, just wear the medical one, you'll look fine,” Paul said.

 

Hugh hummed and looked at his other option again, standing silently. Paul sighed and returned to the bathroom to fix his hair. He dried it quickly by sticking his head into the shower and turning the air on hard.

 

As he was combing his gel into his fringe Hugh walked in wearing the more formal option.

 

“Glad you made a decision,” Paul muttered, focusing on getting his hair smooth.

 

“I haven't decided yet.”

 

Paul sighed and looked at him. He was picking at his collar, trying to get it to sit flat. “Hugh, you look fine,” he said.

 

Hugh frowned, standing straight and studying his reflection. “But you're right, the event isn't formal, maybe I should be in my white one.”

 

Paul groaned, “Holy shit.”

 

Hugh glanced at him, his eyes wrinkling in amusement. “Paul, what do you think?”

 

Paul put his gel away, happy that his hair would sit right. “I think you should hurry it up, Michael's gonna be here any minute,” he said. He pulled his jacket off the counter, shaking it out.

 

“Which one?” Hugh pressed.

 

“What did I say earlier?”

 

“Medical.”

 

Paul pulled his jacket on, starting to do the long line of buttons up. “Then that's what I think.”

 

Hugh turned to him, unimpressed. “Seriously,” he bemoaned.

 

Paul threw his arms up, having only made it halfway up the buttons. “Hugh! I love you but at some point it's easier to just go naked.”

 

Hugh told him off with a look, which made Paul chuckle. Hugh started pulling his pants off again, keeping the dark blue shirt on. Paul turned and left, heading to their bed to wait for Michael to interrupt Hugh's time consuming process. He could see the edge of Hugh's reflection in the mirror, but none of his actual body.

 

“I think your ass looks better in the white, if that helps,” Paul called. He continued doing up his buttons.

 

Hugh leaned over and met his eyes in the reflection and winked. “Pass me them, then,” he said. 

 

Paul groaned fondly, chuckling lightly, and reached for the pair on the ground, throwing them haphazardly in Hugh's direction. 

 

The door alarm went off. Hugh glanced back at Paul, his pants half on, and nodded his head in the direction of the door, clearly saying Paul should get it. Paul stood and called the door to open, staying in the way of the entrance. 

 

“Burnham,” Paul said happily, “You look lovely.”

 

Michael looked down at her clothes in surprise, clearly not expecting a compliment. “Thank you,” she said carefully. “Shall we leave?” 

 

“Hugh's running a bit late.”

 

At that moment Hugh emerged from the bathroom in his white pants and no shirt. He paused and waved at Michael before continuing on the find the white jacket he had thrown onto Paul's chair. 

 

Michael coughed and looked at her feet, her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out how to respond to seeing her friends partner half naked. Paul chuckled at her expression. “We'll be on time, we walk quickly,” he said.

 

Michael seemed to accept the comment as an explanation for the hold up and nodded. 

 

“I'm going to wear the white!” Hugh called.

 

Paul leaned back into the room and nodded at him. “Great decision, honey,” he said. Hugh pulled his jacket on and started doing up his buttons quickly. “Get your shoes on and do the buttons on the way,” Paul suggested.

 

Hugh hummed and nodded, walking off to his cupboard. He pulled his shoes on quickly and hurried over to the door.

 

Paul stepped out, guiding Michael out of the way. They took the lead, walking quickly as Hugh caught up on his buttons. 

 

“Why aren't you going in with Tyler?” Paul asked.

 

Michael glanced away, her cheeks darkening. “Given the amount of admirals expected to attend tonight, we thought it prudent to not arrive as a unified front lest it be taken as an insult.”

 

“Well, we're happy to join you,” Paul said. They arrived at the transporter room. Paul paused to check that Hugh had finished all his buttoning. He had, but he was still struggling with the collar. 

 

Paul gestured Hugh to come to him and caught his collar once he was within reach, folding the flaps over each other. It was the same design as their usual uniforms, but the buttons made it difficult without a mirror. 

 

He finished with Hugh's collar and spread his hands out across his chest, smiling as Hugh met his gaze. “Perfect,” Paul muttered.

 

Hugh licked his lower lip, letting his mouth open into a smile. “Thanks, darling,” he muttered. He leaned in for a quick kiss, his hand resting on Paul's waist for the moment their lips touched. Hugh continued the movement and walked past Paul, letting Paul turn to chase his lips but not giving him another. 

 

“Shall we?” Hugh said to Michael. Paul turned and saw Michael accepting Hugh's offered arm with a wry smile. Hugh twisted to offer Paul his other arm, his smile growing larger as Paul, rolling his eyes, took it.

 

“We've got your back, Michael,” Hugh said clearly as he led them into the transporter room to tackle the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am loving Paul's character development throughout Discovery, but it does make it tough to know if I'm writing him in character! It's good fun tho, just go w it


	7. Fresh Pot Of Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Hugh and Paul's first date, and Straal is on the phone and he is angry that Paul hasn't been working. Nice and sweet

Paul was watching the coffee pot. Replicator coffee was fine, but a fresh pot was a habit of his when he was on a trip. Besides, some people still had an issue with replicated coffee and he didn't want to risk a conversation about something so boring. 

 

As he watched the bubbling, his Padd lit up on the counter top with a video call from Straal. Paul sighed, he'd been dodging Straal's texts for the last twelve hours, and apparently Straal had cracked and was demanding a response.

 

He hit answer, resigning himself.

 

Straal didn't greet him, he just dove right in. “I wanted to catch you before you left for the shuttle- where are you?” Straal was openly looking around the room behind Paul.

 

“I’m in my apartment, what is it?” Paul said. The coffee finished and he poured out two cups worth while Straal responded. 

 

“You’re shuttle leaves in fifteen minutes, Stamets,” Straal said, getting worked up already. “You should be checked in and waiting to lift off, what are you doing?”

 

Paul sighed again, he'd known he'd get told off for his behaviour, but he'd hoped it would wait until he was back on Earth. “I’m drinking coffee. I changed my shuttle, I leave at two,” he said simply.

 

Straal's mouth opened and closed like a fish. “You won’t arrive until nine!” he said, near shouting. He took a deep breath, giving himself a moment to calm down. “You were meant to be here by four, it’s in the roster I sent you. Which, in fact, is why I called, why haven’t you sent that back with your approval yet?”

 

Paul drank some of his coffee, appreciating the shot of comfort it brought. Straal kept watching him, waiting for an answer. Paul knew Straal would be fine with everything, he just needed some time to adjust. Paul hasn't let much of anything get in the way of his work before, Straal was probably sincerely worried. And with Straal, worry, like every emotion, first came across as anger.

 

“Look, I have a reason, but you’re not going to like it,” Paul said. 

 

“What, that you’ve just stopped doing your job? Yeah, I’m not going to like it.”

 

“Strall…” Paul groaned

 

“I really don’t have time for this bullshit, Stamets, what is it?”

 

“I met a guy.”

 

Straal stared at him for a bit, then signed so hard he left the frame, the holographic visage of his face cut in half by the edge of the display. “Paul, I swear to god…”

 

Paul put his cup down, committed to explaining this. Because if he had anything to do with it, Straal wouldn't resent Hugh. “No, Atif, he’s not one of my hookups, he’s something else,” he said earnestly.

 

Straal pursed his lips. “Did he stay the night?”

 

Paul hesitated. “He did,” he said. Straal sighed, his head tipping to the side in exasperation so quickly that the hologram of him didn’t keep up, causing a moment of data split. “But we didn’t fuck,” Paul added hurriedly.

 

“Why, _ why _ , are you coming back late?” Straal said, apparently not interested in the details.

 

Paul cringed. This was the real sticking point. He'd been late responding to emails because he'd met someone before, but he'd never actually skipped out on work. “I wanted to get the same shuttle as Hugh, in case, you know, things went well,” He said defensively.

 

Straal shook his head. He glanced down, hiding his expression, but Paul caught a glimpse of a smile and knew he was in the clear. Straal wasn't his boss, they were equal partners, but Paul had been a tad unfair and Straal was in his rights to be pissed off. However, they were also friends, and a part of Straal would be happy for him. Paul knew that the personal moment would wait until Straal wasn't in the office, but it was nice to see a spark of amusement. 

 

“I changed shuttles before you sent me the schedule, so I didn’t know you’d worked me in this afternoon,” Paul said more kindly.

 

Straal looked back up at him, recognised that his good will had been caught, and grinned. “You’re on Alpha Centauri to work, not pick up men,” he said, a slight chuckle escaping.

 

Paul smiled back at him. “I'm always working, Straal, you’ve got to give me this,” he said. 

 

Straal rolled his eyes, his humour fading quickly as he returned to a professional mindset.

 

“Two things,” he said, his tone tense again. He held one finger up. “Confirm my experiment schedule, and get back to the lab on time!” He had two finger up, and rapped his screen with them, causing the camera to shake and the image to fuzz out into static for a moment. “I can’t believe- not only did you not read the one email I sent you, you’re coming back late?”

 

“I’m not apologising for this!” Paul snapped. “I like the guy, and I put some damned effort in and so far it’s worth it.”

 

“You’ve still got to do your job!” Straal said seriously. They glared at each other for a beat.

 

“I haven’t caused a problem, have I?” Hugh's soft voice interrupted the building tension. Paul spun and looked at him. He hadn't even noticed the sound of the shower stopping, let alone the bathroom door when it opened.

 

Hugh was still damp, there was water caught in his ears and his face glistened. He had put his clothes back on, but not his shoes. Paul felt an odd thrill at the sight of Hugh comfortable and barefoot in his apartment. Ah, he'd fallen pretty fast here. 

 

Paul suddenly remembered Straal. “Shit,” He muttered. He glanced at Straal, hoping against hope that he would take the hint and just hang up. No such luck.

 

“He’s still here?” Straal said, sounding both shocked, pissed, and a little admiring. “ _ He’s still here?” _

  
  
  


_ _____________________ _

  
  
  


Hugh stood in the shower, the sonic pulses turned to full for a minute as he used them to help stretch out his cramped neck. Spontaneously sleeping on a couch had a fun vibe to it, but it still hurt in the morning. Hurt like hell. Hugh moaned as the waves of compressed air hit his muscles, relaxing him, calming him.

 

He was pleased he's stayed, and he was willing to accept the discomfort the couch would cost him because he wasn't sure that Paul would have let him stay if they'd discussed it. As it was they'd simply fallen asleep on the couch, the album they were listening to wound to an end as their legs curled together. They'd remained clothed and barely touching, but Hugh had stirred at some point in the night and found himself quietly very pleased by the sight of the pale man across from him. It had been oddly sweet and very domestic considering they'd met at eleven AM that day. They woke up in the morning as the early commuter bus flew past the window, and Paul's surprised expression had confirmed Hugh's concerns that perhaps he had overstayed his welcome.

 

Hugh had tried to laugh the situation off, but Paul seemed stiff. Hopefully he was just not a morning person, but there was a good chance that in the light of a new sun he regretted the day they'd spent together. It had happened to Hugh before, realising you'd misjudged how much you'd like a man in the morning light. It hasn't happened this time, however. Hugh was just as taken with the blunt, sarcastic, bashful man as he had been at the cafe yesterday morning. 

 

Hugh had made a comment about sore muscles and Paul had quickly ushered him into the shower. Hugh was happy to take the ten minute time out, it would at least give Paul the time to get over the morning if his reaction was simply down to the lack of a coffee, and leave Hugh able to read the dynamic with greater clarity.

 

He sighed, switching the shower taps to water for a quick last rinse of any soap suds before turning it off and stepping out. He hummed a tune from the night before that was in his head, some jazz Paul had picked. The steam was dissipating quickly, the fans doing their work fast, and by the time he's finished drying himself off they shut off, letting the sound of conversation slip into the room.

 

_ “ _ ...Straal, you’ve got to give me this.” 

 

Paul sounded annoyed, although Hugh was still struggling to note the difference between real anger in his tone versus a put on version. Given time he could learn the difference, but he may not get the chance. He hoped he got the chance.

 

Hugh pulled his pants on quickly, trying to keep quiet. He was listening closely. Who was Paul talking to while he had a date in his shower?

 

“Two things!” A man's voice, much angrier than Paul's. “Confirm my experiment schedule, and get back to the lab on time! I can’t believe- not only did you not read the one email I sent you, you’re coming back late?”

 

Hugh had managed to slip his shirt on without missing a word, so he picked up on the implications. This could be about something else entirely, but it was likely about him. He opened the door carefully, fully aware that it was a tad rude to actively eavesdrop, but his curiosity left him so taken he didn't consider the impropriety.

 

“I’m not apologising for this! I like the guy, and I put some damned effort in and so far it’s worth it,” Paul said. Hugh could see him now, standing at the kitchen counter, coffee in hand, glaring down at the Padd he had propped against the fruit bowl. The flicker of a holographic construction of a face caught Hugh's eye, the movement quicker than the calls reception could keep up with.

 

“You’ve still got to do your job!” The man said.

 

Hugh smiled. Paul had shirked his job to spend an afternoon and evening with Hugh. Any worry that Paul hasn't been keen, or regretted Hugh's continued presence left Hugh's mind at once, replaced with a warm wash.

 

He forced the smile off his face, deciding to handle this as respectfully as possible. He'd clearly pissed off someone involved in Paul's life, so he might as well play as ignorant as he could manage and pull for some forgiveness.

 

“I haven’t caused a problem, have I?” Hugh asked softly, walking over to the kitchen.

 

Paul whirled around, his eyes going wide. “Shit,” he muttered. His gaze roamed down Hugh's body, pausing for a moment on his still bare feet. Paul glanced back at his video call, clearly undecided.

 

“He’s still here?” His friend said, his tone dumbfounded and annoyed. “ _ He’s still here?”  _

 

Paul stepped towards him, hesitantly. He slid Hugh a mug of coffee, which Hugh accepted with a smile. 

 

Paul's eyebrows were worried, although that seemed to be their default state. Hugh wanted to kiss the dip between his eyebrows, but he figured the timing was inappropriate. “This is my research partner, Atif Straal,” Paul said, indicating the Padd.

 

Hugh raised an eyebrow at him, slipping past to enter the camera's range. He sipped his coffee, watching Straal's expression as his monitor picked up on Hugh. Straal’s expression became wary, almost openly distrustful. 

 

“What do you two study?” Hugh asked.

 

“He doesn’t know what we study?” Straal snapped before Paul could speak. “What the fuck did you talk about?”

 

Paul sighed, glancing at the ceiling as if asking for help. “I dunno, Atif, other shit,” he said. 

 

“You do  _ one thing _ , Paul,” Straal said, his face flickering again as the connection struggled.

 

Hugh took another sip of his coffee, not sure what to say.

 

Paul glared at Straal for a beat, long enough to be sure the image of his expression will have gotten through. He looked at Hugh, his face softening, although the frustration remained clear. “Astromycology,” he said, “Although the astro part is relatively new, so really we’ve been studying mushrooms together for a few years.”

 

That explained all the mushroom talk yesterday. Hugh had assumed that Paul had just finished reading a book about mushrooms or something, he hadn't mentioned that it was his field of work. Although Hugh wasn't sure if Paul knew that he was a doctor, they'd spent most of their early small talk discussing the graces and vices of opera, then had simply moved on to other opinions.

 

“Well, I’ll be sorry if I interrupted your work,” Hugh said. 

 

Paul shook his head quickly, his grip on his coffee cup tightening. “No, nothing important.”

 

Strall scoffed loudly.

 

Paul rolled his eyes, still focusing on Hugh. “I’m so sorry, I’m just going to deal with him,” he said, nodding

 

“Deal with me?” Straal repeated. “What-”

 

“I’ll email you,” Paul interrupted, flicking the off button.

 

Straal's expression was an odd mix of offended and entertained. His angry eyes belied by the large smile spreading across his face. “Hey-” he shouted before the screen went dark, the connection severed.

 

Paul turned back to Hugh slowly, his lips tight together. Hugh took another sip of coffee, enjoying the slightly nervous tilt of his eyebrows.

 

Hugh saw no point in pretending he hadn't heard as much as he had, so he asked, “Why are you getting back later than planned?”

 

Paul breathed out sharply, glancing at his Padd in annoyance again. He had a gulp of his coffee, then faced Hugh confidently. “I was originally booked on a shuttle that leaves in about ten minutes,” he said, clearly deciding to not be bothered by the reveal. Hugh respected that, there was no reason to be embarrassed and Paul clearly agreed, even though it had been something of a leap of faith.

 

Hugh smiled. “You wanted another day with me,” he said quietly, shifting the dynamic of the room back to just the two of them. Hugh didn’t mind interrupting Paul’s work, he seemed like he wouldn’t put up with something he didn’t want, so clearly he had made his own decision and Hugh was happy to respect that, and reap the rewards.

 

Paul took a step forward, standing comfortably close. He raised an eyebrow. “I didn't want to miss what could be a good chance,” he corrected. Hugh didn't think the distinction was worth pointing out, but that wasn't important.  

 

“When did you change flights?” Hugh asked.

 

Paul smiled, a sincere humour playing across his face. He didn't find the topic embarrassing, but he did find it funny. “Before we left the cafe,” he muttered. 

 

Hugh's smile turned slowly into a grin. He put his coffee cup down on the counter top and looked at Paul. “You’ve been playing hard to get,” he said, taking a step forward. The movement brought them intimately close, Paul's cup the only thing between them. Paul’s grip on his cup shifted.

 

“I have not,” Paul said, frowning. “And I resent that.”

 

Hugh turned his head, his eyes crinkling up. “You have,” he said slowly. He rested his fingertips on Paul’s knuckles, testing the water before making his move. Paul breathed out shakily when Hugh touched him, which Hugh took as an invitation. He moved Paul’s fingers, taking the cup from him. He put it on the countertop, not looking away from Paul’s eyes, and stepped in again, his fingers tangling in with Paul’s hands. “You’ve been coy,” he muttered, tipping his head forward to let his breath brush against Paul’s jawline. He felt Paul shiver.

 

Paul leaned in, chasing his lips. Hugh let him chase for a moment before meeting him, kissing him lightly, their lips barely touching. Hugh’s slid his hand up Paul’s arm, enjoying the feeling of his physicality, and rested his hand on Paul’s neck, holding his head tilted in towards him. Paul kissed him, his lips keen and open. Hugh pulled back, breathing in shakily. Paul’s eyes opened, the blue beautifully stark against his pale eyelashes. 

 

“I kind of like coy,” Hugh whispered against his lips. Paul grabbed Hugh’s shirt, pulling him in and stepping backwards. Hugh followed easily, meeting Paul’s lips. Paul’s back hit the edge of the counter, jolting Hugh closer to him. Both of Hugh’s hands wrapped around Paul’s jawline, holding him close as Paul pulled their bodies together. Paul’s lips were desperate, and Hugh had never felt so hot. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mid season finale was such an angst fest that I felt like I needed to sit down and finish this fic tonight to get it posted. I hope some of you smile as you read!


	8. Satisfied?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul sprains his ankle and Hugh goes down to fix him up. Lots of sass, lots of snark, lots of love

“Engineering to Sickbay.”

 

Hugh glanced around the room, he was clearly the closest to the console. He put his disinfectant down and walked over, hitting the open response.

 

“Culber here.”

 

“Doctor, I think Lieutenant Stamets has hurt his ankle, but he refuses to believe it and will not be encouraged to go to sickbay.” The voice on the other end was male and hushed, like he was hiding the call. Hugh smiled despite himself, Paul really made life difficult down there.

 

Hugh turned to the room and caught Nurse Lee’s eyes. He waved her over. “Can he walk?” He asked.

 

The response took a moment. “I wouldn't call it walking.”

 

“Alright, acknowledged,” Hugh said, switching the console off. He turned to Lee. “Nurse Lee, would you go down to engineering and check on Lieutenant Stamets’ ankle? He'll put up a fight, but just ignore him and he'll let you treat him eventually.”

 

Lee opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the Chief Medical Officer.

 

“Doctor Culber, I'm sure I heard wrong. Lieutenant Stamets is your patient,” Ephrix said, walking over to them.

 

Hugh tried to not show his exasperation, but judging by Lee's smile he failed. He liked his superior a lot, but her kindness in this matter was misplaced.

 

“If he can walk he doesn't need a doctor. Nurse Lee will be perfectly able to handle his injury,” Hugh said. Lee slipped out behind him, going back to her previous task. She was probably relieved to not have to go.

 

Ephrix smiled. “He's your job, it's ok to go,” she said softly.

 

“Chief, I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but really, he doesn't want me in Engineering.”

 

Ephrix put her hands on Hugh's chest, both comforting him and pushing him so that he moved towards the door. “Don't be ridiculous, he always wants you,” she said.

 

Lee returned, passing a home visit bad to Ephrix. Hugh gaped at her and muttered, “Traitor.” She grinned and raised an eyebrow before leaving.

 

Hugh tried one last time. “Doctor Ephrix, let Nurse L-”

 

“Bye now,” Ephrix interrupted. She'd led Hugh out of medical and closed the door in his face.

 

Hugh stared at the door for a moment. He and Paul liked to run into each other at work, it made their days better, but doing so intentionally seemed like cheating somehow. They had assumed, initially, that they wouldn't see much of each other on the Discovery, but the CMO had a soft heart for romance and encouraged (or forced, depending on the day) Hugh to attend to any and all of Paul's medical needs. Hugh had raised his concerns around treating a loved one, the conflict of interest, unfortunately the spore drive that Paul was trying to make functional was complicated science and Hugh seemed to be the only one in medical who cared enough to understand it. 

 

Hugh sighed and began walking towards Engineering. He'd been treating Straal and Paul for a few years. Not formally, but when they got a chemical burn, or, as once happened to Straal, a mushroom began to grow out of his skin, they would finish their work day and come see Hugh in his apartment. So yeah, Hugh was used to being Paul's doctor, but given that they lived and worked together in a tin can, the time apart was just as precious as the time together.

 

Regardless, he was a small bit thrilled to see Paul. He'd left for his shift before Hugh had rolled out of bed, excited to get his day started. Hugh loved him and his work ethic, but he had missed his chance to say good morning. 

 

Hugh arrived at Engineering, his thumb tapping nervously against his thigh. The room was dark, always starkly darker than the hallway outside. Hugh scanned the room, spotting Paul at the spore drive, messing with something on the door. As he watched, Paul turned and walked back to his station, clearly limping. 

 

Paul glanced up at the entrance as he walked, saw Hugh, and his gait suddenly changed.

 

“That was almost magical, Lieutenant,” Hugh called, walking down the stairs to join him. A few of the engineers in the room turned when he spoke, watching him cautiously. 

 

Paul stopped walking, making Hugh come to him. “What?” He asked, his tone loaded. 

 

Hugh raised an eyebrow, refusing to be bullied out of his superiority over his patient. “As soon as you saw me your limp just disappeared.”

 

There was a slight titter in the room, which stopped when Paul glared at the people behind Hugh. The sounds of interfaces started up again as everyone returned to their work. Paul frowned, crossing his arms. “I'm not limping, you're not needed here,” he said.

 

Hugh sighed. “I agree I'm not needed, but CMO insisted.” Paul's frown lessened at that. “However, you are injured, and I'm here, so let's just get this done and I can leave,” Hugh said.

 

“I'm not hurt,” Paul said. 

 

Hugh shook his head, glaring at the ceiling for a moment. How did he get landed with such a thick headed, uncooperative partner?

 

Hugh looked back at Paul, glaring. Paul raised his eyebrow, his expression smug, almost daring Hugh to try something. Hugh scowled.

 

After a moment of facing off, Hugh raised a hand, pressing his pointer finger firmly against Paul's chest, and pushed confidently. He moved immediately to catch him, sure that he would need it.

 

Paul stumbled backwards, his crossed arms not offering him any balance. He tried to stable himself without using his injured foot, but he failed and landed a fair bit of weight on his right foot. He cried out softly, pulling his foot back up on reflex and tipped over more as a result.

 

Hugh was already there, tugging Paul's falling side towards him and wrapping his arm around Paul's body to hold him stable.

 

“You alright?” Hugh muttered. 

 

“You pushed me.” Paul sounded shocked, and more than a little impressed. He turned his head to look Hugh in the eyes. 

 

“I also caught you,” Hugh said. Paul smiled despite himself, relaxing into Hugh's embrace.

 

Hugh stepped back, his hands still on Paul's biceps to ensure his balance remained. “Can I treat you now?” He asked.

 

Paul smiled at him fondly. “Whatever gets you out of my hair sooner,” he said. 

 

“Definitely easier to just cooperate, then,” Hugh said, smiling back at him. Paul turned and began to walk over to his station, not bothering to hide his limp. Hugh interrupted him before he took two steps. “Now would you stop trying to walk on that thing?” Hugh snapped, grabbing Paul's upper arm to stop him. 

 

Paul turned and glared, clearly unimpressed with how touchy Hugh was willing to be. Well, he was going to like this next move even less.

 

Hugh stepped in close, one arm snaking around Paul's waist, holding him firmly as he encouraged Paul to wrap his arm around Hugh's shoulders. Paul cooperated, but not very generously, and let Hugh manhandle him into position. 

 

Hugh looked at Paul, his expression brooking no complaint. Paul rolled his eyes. He didn't smile but his lips relaxed from their frown, which Hugh took for as good as a smile. 

 

He led Paul to the back corner where a short set of stairs were. Paul walked more or less normally, but Hugh was sure to lift his entire weight whenever Paul's right foot touched the ground. He would have preferred to carry Paul to the stairs - he could, he'd done it in private many times before - but this seemed like the best he would actually get. And at least Paul wasn't actively fighting him. 

 

He set Paul down on a step, ignoring the fed up sighs he gave at the assistance, then knelt at his feet and started working his right boot off.

 

Paul gasped a few times, quietly, but clearly in more pain than he’d let on. Lucky the ‘fleet boots has such a strong support structure, he must have done something dramatic to injure his ankle in these. Normally they save people from any real hurt.

 

“How'd you injure it?” Hugh asked. He pulled Paul's sock off, frowning at him in apology when he exhaled sharply at the movement. He rested Paul's foot on his bent knee, reaching into his bag to get his instruments. 

 

“A handsome doctor came to engineering and pushed me over, it was awful,” Paul said, his tense tone not matching the joking words. 

 

Hugh glared at him. He was clearly in pain and the kidding around was only delaying things.

 

Paul sighed again. “I stumbled on the stairs in the cultivation bay, it was nothing,” he said, looking at Hugh like he was overreacting. 

 

Hugh nodded, and ignored his expression, deciding to do his job instead of flirting like Paul was. He began scanning his ankle, reading the device as it told him what was inflamed. Hugh had to move Paul's foot around, checking exactly which areas were more damaged than others. It took some effort but he managed to keep his eyes mostly on his device, rather than throwing Paul an apologetic look every time he winced. Paul knew he was doing his job right, and he'd be fixed up soon enough.

 

“It's just a sprain, so I can fix here and now,” Hugh said. 

 

Paul didn't respond, so he looked up. Paul was tight lipped, clearly trying to keep quiet. He nodded, granting his consent for Hugh to heal him. Hugh grabbed Paul's calf for a moment, running his thumb in a small circle, offering what piece of comfort he could. 

 

Hugh returned his attention to his instrument, changing the settings to regeneration, and began his work. With his focus the procedure went quickly and Paul's ankle was as good as new within a minute.

 

Of course, Paul wouldn't tell him if anything felt off, so Hugh had to improvise slightly with the post procedure check. He opened a container holding small circular sensors and stuck them on either side of Paul's ankle. The looked like electronic stickers, a line of light moving on their outward side to show their functionality. 

 

Hugh knelt back onto his heels. “Alright, I need you to go for a walk now,” he said, still working on fixing his reader to pick up the information from the sensor stickers. 

 

“What?” Paul asked. He sounded tired, the sudden absence of pain could do that sometimes. 

 

Hugh looked at him, smiling softly. “Just take five steps then come back,” he said.

 

Hugh stood up, offering Paul a hand. Paul ignored it and stood on his own, walking off into the room as instructed. His gait was uneven, but that was to be expected with one shoe on and one off. Hugh's gaze flicked between studying the readings, and watching Paul for any signs of discomfort.

 

Everything on the reader was green, and Paul seemed more exasperated than anything else.

 

“Satisfied?” Paul said once he returned. 

 

Hugh turned his instrument off, tucking it back in his bag. “Yep,” he said.

 

Hugh knelt in front of Paul, carefully pulling the sensors off his ankle. He shifted back slightly and looked up at him, smiling at the soft expression on Paul's face. Before standing, Hugh leant in and placed a quick, light kiss on Paul's thigh, just above his knee. 

 

Paul's hand caught his shoulder, his fingers trailing down Hugh's chest as he stood. Once he was standing Paul smiled at him, their faces close. Paul's hand lay on Hugh's hip. “Lunch at one?” Paul whispered. 

 

Hugh smiled. “I'll check the surgery roster. Now put your shoe back on, you look ridiculous,” Hugh said, his smile shifting into a cheeky grin. 

 

Paul looked surprised for a beat, then his expression fluttered through disbelief,annoyance, and exasperation. “Get out,” he said loudly, rolling his eyes.

 

Hugh kept grinning, letting his adoration for Paul come through enough to ensure he wouldn't get in trouble. Paul looked annoyed but there was a light in his eyes that told Hugh otherwise. As soon as Hugh stepped back, Paul turned and stalked off to collect his missing shoe. 

  
Hugh left, glancing back at the last moment to see Paul already back at work at his station. Paul had a small smile on his face, one that Hugh liked to think was particular to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hugh mention the CMO in the fifth ep, but we still haven't seen them! I wanna know what the CMO is like. But until we do, I'll use Ephrix the lovely denobulan.


	9. Tunnel Vision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul is late for a lunch date and makes matters worse because he doesn't always think things through. He spends some time making it up to Hugh, who forgives him more quickly than he lets on.
> 
> Making out, get heated but not too sexual

Hugh sat at his table, half heartedly scrolling through the ship's update feed. Really he was just finding an excuse to keep an eye on his notifications incase Paul texted. He was late again. 

 

Hugh sighed. He was used to Paul being late, it barely bothered him now. Paul's focus was single minded, it meant that when they were together Hugh was the centre of Paul's world, he would look at him as though nothing else in the universe could come close to comparing. It was wonderful. However Paul also fell into a similar level of tunnel vision with just about everything, including his work. Primarily his work.

 

Hugh took the trade, the occasionally distracted husband who adores him with every fiber of his being, when his attention is held by Hugh. Given the strength of Pauls love it comes out as a good deal, really. Sometimes he forgot to come home because work was too interesting, or he didn't think to text Hugh on their anniversary. Those thing didn't really matter, when he was around he was marvelous. It made their time together more precious and interesting because they lived such full lives apart,. When they with each other  Paul was there body and soul and it was wonderful. 

 

It was still mildly annoying when he was late to a lunch date. Hugh had to be back on shift in 40 minutes now, Paul was wasting away time they should be spending together.

  
  


A body walked near him, startling him slightly, and pulled out the chair across from Hugh to sit in. It was not Paul. “Ahh…” Hugh said, not too sure how to convey that this guy was not welcome.

 

“Doctor Culber,” he said, nodding his head in greeting. He sat straight, looking mildly uncomfortable. 

 

Hugh studied him, he's seen him in Paul's labs, but didn't know his name. An ensign and an engineer, that's all he knew and he got that from the uniform. Perhaps he needed a doctor? “Are you alright, Ensign?” He asked politely. 

 

“Yessir,” he said confidently. “Lieutenant Stamets sent me in lieu.”

 

Well, that was certainly unexpected. Hugh was sure his expression showed his bemusement. Perhaps Paul had picked a back up boyfriend for when he couldn't make it to lunches. The thought was amusing, but not likely. 

 

“Are you sure?” Hugh asked after a few beats of slightly flabbergasted silence had passed.

 

The ensign smiled tightly. “He’s just finishing something up, he’ll be along for your meeting as soon as he can.” Hugh didn't react, not sure what he was meant to say to that. “Which should be very soon,” the young man added on, looking uncomfortable. He'd started out so confidently, Hugh's less than generous response had clearly shaken him.

 

Hugh sighed. Paul was very tiring sometimes. “Stamets didn't tell you why I’m meeting him today, did he?” he asked. 

 

The ensign shifted, sitting up a little straighter. “He didn’t specify, no, but I’m sure he didn’t mean to be late. We do have a lot of work at the moment, and with Lieutenant Stamets it’s never personal.” He smiled like they were sharing a joke.

 

Paul had sent one of his staff members to stall Hugh, like he was some annoying element of his job that he'd rather put off. Hugh had enough self respect to not have to put up with this. He stood up, startling the ensign slightly. “When it’s between Stamets and I it’s always personal, Ensign.” Hugh knew he was glowering, and he shouldn’t be. Paul had insulted him, not the ensign, and the poor man across from him was really taking the brunt of it now. Hugh forced himself to smile. “Tell him I’ll be in medical if he still wants me,” he said. 

 

The ensign stood up. “He’ll only be another minute or two, Doctor, please wait,” he said hurriedly.

 

Hugh sighed again. Maybe he should tell Paul to include a reference to their relationship in the induction of new staff. Could save a few headaches. “Enjoy your lunch, Ensign,” Hugh said, turning to leave. 

 

As he left he heard the ensign groan, “Ah, shit.”

 

\-----

 

Paul hurried down the corridor. He’d meant to be no more than a few minutes late. He’d meant to be on time, really, but things had gotten slightly out of hand in engineering. Cadet Tilly had needed him to check some figures of hers, and as she so rarely asks for help Paul hadn’t felt he could refuse her. However, he had been left in a difficult position where he hadn’t been able to contact Hugh (his Padd was hooked up to his terminal running a check on a virtual mycelium network) and let him know he’d be a few minutes late. Luckily, Ensign Ibrahim had been leaving for lunch and was willing to pass on the message. With any luck Hugh wouldn’t be too put out once Paul arrived, he was usually a good sport about these things. 

 

Paul scanned the rec room. No sign of Hugh, and he wasn’t easy to miss in his white uniform. Paul zeroed in on Ibrahim, he was sitting awkwardly near the replicators. Paul tapped the back of Ibrahim’s chair to announce his presence, punching a request for burritos into the replicator. “Where is he?” Paul asked loudly, assuming he had Ibrahim’s attention. 

 

Ibrahim moved to stand next to him. “I asked him to stay, but I think I offended him. You only just missed him by two minutes,” he said hesitantly. 

 

Paul sighed greatly. If Hugh was offended, Paul would be taking the punishment for it. Hugh knew how to apply blame correctly, and Paul was confident it would land on him. He collected his food and face Ibrahim. “What did you say?” he asked. 

 

Ibrahim flapped his arms helplessly. “I’m not sure, I explained that we’re busy in engineering and that your being late to some meeting isn’t personal.”

 

Paul rubbed his forehead, feeling a stress headache coming on. This guy had tried to put Hugh off like he was there for some unwanted business luncheon. “Yeah, look, I didn’t mean for you to stall him in a professional capacity,” Paul said. Poor Ibrahim looked mildly terrified. Paul was happy to be a hardass at work, in fact he preferred to maintain a level of emotional distance and high expectations. But this was a personal matter he’d thrown at the unsuspecting Ibrahim, and he felt a tad bad. “It’s not your fault,” he said, almost unwillingly, “But this was a lunch date and I just didn’t want him thinking I’d stood him up… again. Did he say where he went?”

 

Ibrahim froze, then gaped like a fish for a moment. Paul raised an eyebrow, hurrying his response. “Medical,” Ibrahim said. “And I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t realise you were-”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Paul said, leaving quickly. Hugh had started his lunch break only eight minutes ago, he hadn’t lost so much time. He walked quickly down the hallway. Medical was on this floor, so he was there within seconds, eating his burrito quickly along the way.

 

Paul walked in and glanced around. He wasn’t expecting to find Hugh at work half way through his lunch break, and he didn’t. He turned to the nearest nurse. “He in the kitchen?” 

 

She turned and looked at him, realisation sparking in her eyes when she saw who was asking. “Yeah, what did you do?” She asked, far more deeply interested that Paul thought she had any right to be.

 

Paul rolled his eyes and walked off towards the small staff kitchen they had at the back of Medical. It was intended for emergency situations when the staff were working around the clock and needed to be fed something, but the occasional person used it on their regular lunch break to take some time alone. 

 

Hugh was sitting at the table, the other two chairs empty. He must have heard Paul’s arrival - he never was surprised to see Paul no matter how Paul tried to be unexpected - but he ignored him, instead favouring his Padd.  

 

Paul sat down next to Hugh. As he did Hugh glanced at him, he looked unimpressed and dismissive. Paul smiled and did not receive one in return. Bad start. Hugh was studying his Padd again, staying silent.

 

They sat in silence for a minute as Paul finished his burrito. Once he was done he pushed his bowl away and leaned back, studying Hugh. “So, are you  _ pissed off _ pissed off, or are you more, yeah, pissed off, but my husband is adorable in his blithering incompetence and it’s overall kind of amusing,” he asked.

 

Hugh's lips tightened to hold back his smile. Paul knew he'd get a response from calling himself incompetent. He was recognising his actions and admitting fault, Hugh loved that kind of shit.

 

“I’m swinging between the two,” Hugh said, his tone still cold and tense despite the nearness of his smile.

 

Paul leaned in, his fingers brushing Hugh's elbow, falsely accidental. Coy, Hugh liked to call him. “I thought he knew it was a date, I didn’t imagine he’d sit down and try and put you off like that,” he said.

 

They both liked keeping their professional lives as separate as they could, but they still wanted people to know they were married. Ibrahim was new and it wasn't part of the official induction, but still. It was nice to think people knew they were married. Paul was a little put out, the surprise on Ibrahim’s face when he found out they were together was still on his mind.

 

“Next time just text me,” Hugh finally muttered.

 

Paul smiled. “Understood,” he said. Hugh glanced at him, his gaze flicking from his eyes to his mouth and back to his eyes. He smiled in response, his eyes crinkling beautifully in humour.

 

Paul picked up Hughs empty plate, moving it out of the way. “So,” he said, leaning forwards. “If my calculations are correct -and I am a genius, so they are - you have thirty three minutes of your lunch break left. I’d like to spend at least thirty of those minutes making out with you, if you’ll have me.”

 

Hugh glared at him, his furrowed brow at odds with the smirk playing on his lips. “Can I not be angry with you for five minutes before you throw your body at me?” He asked.

 

Paul frowned, raising an eyebrow. He lowered his voice, trying to make the bright white room more intimate. “I thought you liked my body,” he said softly.

 

Hugh looked at him, his gaze trailing down from his face to his chest. Paul shifted in his seat, crossing his legs so that less of his body was hidden by the table. Hugh watched him, his eyes flicking between Paul's legs and smile. He licked his lips, sending a rush of triumph through Paul. Paul always felt sexier when Hugh was watching him than he did any other time.

 

Hugh leant back in his chair, watching Paul intensely from a slight distance. He had a lazy smile on, but didn't seem to be preparing to stand up, despite how shamelessly he was checking Paul out.

 

“You can give me a hickey or two, wherever you want,” Paul said, trying to sweeten the deal. Hughs eyes focused in, drawing a line from his collar to his crotch. Paul half felt like he’d already been marked by him, how physically he felt his gaze. “Visible as you like,” Paul added. Hughs eyes jumped up to his neck, clearly planning the affect he was going to have. Paul felt himself heat up, his collar becoming far too tight all at once.

 

Hugh reached out and took his hand, holding tight. He pulled him in, tugging further than Paul could reach from his seat, forcing him to stand up. Hugh remained leaning back casually in his chair, watching Paul stand at his bidding, and moved Paul's hand to his mouth, lightly kissing the inside of his wrist. 

 

Paul watched the contact, standing close, so involved in the sight that he briefly forgot to breathe. Hugh looked up at him, his eyes warm and flirty. As Paul watched he pressed his lips against his skin again, this time pinching a line of skin between his teeth. Paul gasped at the sting, not expecting it. 

 

Hugh kept watching him as he bit a larger section of skin, then sucked, running his tongue expertly and unforgivingly against his strained skin, encouraging the blood vessels to burst. Paul kept quiet through it, well aware that the door was open, but found himself gasping for air when Hugh finally let up. 

 

“There’s a supply closet in the hallway,” Hugh muttered, his lips still brushing against Paul's tender wrist. Paul shivered.

 

“Sounds perfect,” he said breathily.

 

Hugh stood up, pulling Paul close. It briefly occurred to Paul that he had begun this seduction and he had let it fall completely out of his control. Hugh kissed him sweetly on his lips, just for a moment, then stepped away, his hand rearranging quickly to hold Paul's wrist, his thumb pressing against the fresh hickey, and pull him along to follow.

 

“I’m gonna fuck up your hair, too,” Hugh muttered as they made their way through the main room of Medical.

 

“Sounds better than perfect,” Paul said happily. He was sure he looked dazed, but he couldn't bring himself to care much what people thought about that. The inappropriately curious nurse from earlier was probably getting an eye full. 

 

Paul kept pace easily as Hugh led them around the corner to the supply closet. When they reached it Hugh let go of Paul's wrist, instead grabbing the front of his uniform shirt and in a controlled, forceful move pushed him up against the wall next to the door. 

 

“I’m going to enjoy this, aren’t I?” Paul said, watching as Hugh ignored him to punch in his access code to get the closet open. 

 

Hugh glanced at him as the door opened. “Knowing you? Yes,” he said smugly. He slipped into the small room, dragging Paul in after him. 

 

Once the door closed behind him Hugh pushed him steadily back against it. Hugh grinned, quickly burying his hands in Paul's hair, actively messing it up. Paul laughed, knocking his hands away. Hugh's hand returned quickly, cupping the back of his neck to pull them together to kiss.

 

Paul's toes curled, his entire attention being pulled into the moment as he returned the kiss. One of Hugh's hands slid back into his hair, holding him firmly at the nape of his neck. His other hand moved not ungently down his body, coming to rest against his hip with some pressure, pushing him against the wall solidly. Paul tugged on the fabric his hands were touching, not sure where he'd managed to get them, pulling Hugh into him. 

 

The memory of kissing Hugh's lips was often enough to make Paul weak at the knees, the act of doing so was so entirely involving it took his breath away. 

 

Hugh leaned into him, his body taking up more space than it had any right to. His leg slipped between Paul's, pressing against him, and he felt like he was relying more on Hugh to keep him upright than anything else. Hugh's mouth left his lips, moving across his cheek. Paul managed to hold back a whine, already missing the contact. 

 

Hugh moved his hand from Paul's hip to join with his hand, steadily moving his hand above his head and holding it in place. The wall was cold against Paul's knuckles, but the pressure of Hugh's thumb on his wrist coupled with the hickey he could feel Hugh giving him rendered the coolness barely noticeable. 

 

Hugh bit him, punching his skin suddenly, making Paul gasp. His gasp turned into a moan as Hugh played off him, reading his reactions and pulling more from him. Shortly later he moved away, leaving the fresh mark behind.

 

“That was a pretty bullshit stunt you pulled,” Hugh muttered against his ear.

 

Paul moaned, he was not in a state to defend his case. He scrunched his eyes closed, trying to encourage his mind to return to his control so that he could meet Hugh quip for quip. It would have worked if not for the incongruous hardness of the wall behind his hand, still held in place by Hugh, that stopped him from distancing himself from the warm and sparked feelings Hugh was delivering.

 

After a few breaths he spoke, somewhat breathily. “That's not how I intended it to be, I just wanted him to pass the message on real quick.”

 

Hugh hummed, still kissing his neck, occasionally performing some feat that promised to leave a mark. His hand slipped from Paul's hair to his chest, confidently feeling his body through his uniform.

 

“But I've learnt, I'll make sure I communicate my requests clearly in future,” Paul muttered.

 

Hugh moved off Paul suddenly, the absence of his body hitting Paul harshly. He grabbed his other hand, slamming it gently in place alongside the first above his head. He leaned against their hands, proving to Paul how in control he was. Paul was suddenly keenly aware how hard he was. He pushed against Hugh's grip, not enough to be trying to escape, but enough to test the waters. Hugh didn't let up. “No, you won't use your staff to pass on personal messages,” Hugh said slowly, his voice low.

 

Paul rolled his eyes. “I won't use my staff to pass on personal messages,” he repeated.

 

“And you could ease up on the sarcasm there, honey,” Hugh said, looking at him incredulously. 

 

Paul smiled and leaned forwards to kiss him. Hugh let him, then moved his hands down Paul's arms, feeling him up shamelessly. Paul took that as a cue for freedom and wrapped his arms around Hugh, pulling him close, encouraging the kiss to last as long as possible.

 

Lunch breaks were never long enough in Paul's opinion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna write more of the make out scene but this fic fought me and i just wanna post so here you are!


	10. Early

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylvia Tilly manages to accidentally play a part in Stamets and Culber's wedding anniversary

Sylvia entered the Mess, glancing around for a familiar face. There weren't many yet, she had only arrived on Discovery a few weeks ago and she usually took her lunch earlier than she had today so her usual lunch crowd weren't here. She spotted Doctor Culber, who had given her her physical when she arrived and had been very kind about it. A thought sparked and she realised she had at least one question to ask him, which was one question more than she had for anyone else at the tables. Seeing as she was refusing to be intimidated by rank, she felt she should sit with him. 

 

“Doctor Culber, how are you?” She asked  standing across the table from him. He looked up from his plate, seeming surprised but not displeased with her. He pulled his plate towards him, giving her space to set her tray on the table. 

 

“I'm fine, and you? Are your allergies behaving themselves?” He asked as she sat down happily. This had gone very well for her, he was quite a high ranking member of the crew and even if her direction wasn't Medical it couldn't hurt to have a Lieutenant Commander on your side. 

 

“Yessir, I've been sleeping through the nights fine,” she said. 

 

“Good.” Culber seemed sincere in his response, but had nothing to add. Sylvia noticed the silence deepen with concern, she couldn't let it go on too long. 

 

She had no way to segway smoothly into her reason for joining him, so decided to just dive in head first.

 

“Doctor, I don't know if it's any of my business - well, actually, I know it's none of my business - but Lieutenant Stamets has been in an especially bad mood today and I can't figure out why,” she said quickly. She had no idea if Culber was willing to discuss his relationship or not, but this was the only connection she knew of between them. “Do you know if there's anything I could do to help cheer him up? He's kind of bringing the mood down in Engineering.”

 

Culber looked at her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then his face shifted slightly, in a way Sylvia couldn't pin point, but he seemed softer, more welcoming.

 

“I'm afraid I don't have a clue, Tilly,” he said, “He was pissed off at me this morning before I did anything. Sorry it's affected your day.”

 

“It's ok,” Sylvia said quickly. She paused, but the words came tumbling out without her control. “It's just, Ensign Torque is on shift this afternoon and I'm trying to get him to ask me out and it's been fairly silent in the room this morning which isn't conducive to him asking me out.”

 

“Torque…” Culber mused. “Is he the one with no earlobes? At all?”

 

“Yes, that's him.”

 

“He's alright, he's funny.”

 

Tilly felt a rush of relief. “He is funny, isn't he? It's not just that I like him, he's actually- Sir!” Stamets had appeared at her side, glaring down at her. He raised an eyebrow coldly.

 

Sylvia quickly put her drink back on her tray, standing as fast as she could. “I'll leave you two be,” she said. Stamets looked truly pissed off, she might have overstepped a major line here. 

 

“Oh that's not necessary, Tilly,” Culber said, but Stamets was already taking the seat Sylvia had just vacated. At Culber's words he turned his attention to Culber, scowling at him.

 

“No, no,” Sylvia said quickly, stepping away. She was glad she hadn't made herself unwelcome with Culber, but the displeasure on Stamets’ face was now a new stress point of hers. She turned to find a new table.

 

“You want someone to eat lunch with us? Today?” She heard Stamets ask pointedly.

 

“Today?” Culber repeated, clearly not understanding the stress Stamets had put on the word.

 

Most of the Mess had filled up, this was the most common time to take lunch and it showed. There was one good seat but it was very near the table she had just left, and she was loathe to return so soon. 

 

Another scan of the room, however, and she gave up. She made her way to the table, determined not to listen to her boss and his husband. She intentionally sat with her back to them.

 

She flicked through the pages on her Padd, refreshing a few sites to see if there was anything of interest. No matter how she tried she couldn't help but notice the stony silence at the table behind her. She hoped she hadn't made Stamets’ bad mood worse.

 

“How's your day?” She heard Culber ask. 

 

Stamets was quiet for a few beats before he muttered “Fine.”

 

Sylvia shook her head, forcing herself to return her focus to her Padd. Starfleet had promoted a new Captain since she'd last checked and she was curious to see what path he had taken to achieve that rank. He had apparently started in Security, which was odd for Captains, so his story promised to be interesting.

 

Culber's voice interrupt her thoughts. “Mine's been good,” he said pointedly. Stamets didn't respond. Sylvia sighed, it seemed she wasn't going to be able to ignore them. With any luck they would keep sitting there in silence until she finished her burger and she could slip out without hearing anything personal.

 

“Alright, what has got your panties in a twist, Paul?” Culber asked. 

 

She heard Stamets respond, but couldn't make out the words. She felt oddly torn, on one hand she was glad she wasn't invading their privacy, on the other she really wanted to know what was wrong with Stamets. 

 

“Our- what?” Culber replied, dumbfounded.

 

“Our anniversary, Hugh!” Stamets said clearly. “You haven't said anything, it's the seventeenth and-”

 

Sylvia squeaked in surprise. She didn't mean to, but it slipped out and it was loud. Loud enough to stop Stamets halfway through his sentence. Halfway through his very misinformed sentence.

 

She sat there, staring at her plate in embarrassment. She could feel them both staring at her. After a moment she heard Culber chuckle and decided to give up, turning to face her shame.

 

“Cadet, it is very rude to lurk,” Stamets said. He looked furious.

 

Sylvia could feel herself blushing. She wanted so badly for Stamets to like her, he was a genius and her direct superior. There was so much she could learn from him. “Sorry sir, I didn't mean to, um, there's no spare seats, see, and-”

 

Culber interrupted her, “Cadet Tilly, could you tell the Lieutenant what the date is today?”

 

“Aah.” Sylvia didn't want to. She wished she could say it was the seventeenth and take Stamets’ side, but unfortunately the date wasn't going to change to suit her wont and it would remain the sixteenth. And she definitely didn't want to be the one to tell Stamets it was the sixteenth.

 

“No, don't involve her,” Stamets snapped. “Don't involve her.”

 

Culber winked at her and Sylvia felt a wave of relief. She didn't need to get involved. As she turned back to her table she saw Culber push his Padd over to Stamets, tapping the corner where the date sat. 

 

There was silence behind her for a while, she could only imagine the exchange between them. There was the clatter of a Padd, presumably Stamets checking the date on his own device.

 

“If you want your present early all you need to do is ask, it's in my second drawer,” Culber said.

 

“No, I-”

 

Culber interrupted him, the laughter clear in his tone. “Is that why you woke up early this morning? I was wondering about that.”

 

Stamets responded, his voice low enough that Sylvia could convince herself not to hear it. Culber matched his tone and Sylvia relaxed. She caught a few words here and there, and she could hear Culber laughing occasionally, but if she focused on what she was reading she wouldn't piece together the content of their discussion. 

 

The Captain ne Security officer’s story was less illuminating than she’d hoped. He’d been on a mission that had gone badly and had slipped into a leadership role naturally, drawing the attention of the Chief of Security and his Captain at the time, which had helped shaped his career. Again and again it seemed she needed to find a way to be noticed by someone, find herself a mentor. She could do it, of course, but it didn’t seem to be happening naturally and all the career trajectories she’d read had an air of fate to them.

 

She leaned back, considering her thoughts. She’d finished her burger and had quite forgotten the couple she was trying to ignore behind her, until Stamets’ voice got slightly louder and she heard the tail end of his sentence. 

 

“...making fun of me, you bully,” he said. He didn’t sound really angry, in fact she would have sworn he was suppressing a laugh if it weren’t for the fact that she had yet to see Stamets laugh.

 

“It's sweet that you're looking forward to it,” Culber said softly. 

 

Sylvia pushed her chair away from the table, deciding to take that as her cue to leave. She could finish her break in the Observation deck, or even her quarters. Not like she had a roommate who would find it odd. She walked to the door, turning at the last moment almost against her will and glancing back at Stamets and Culber. Their ankles were hooked together and they were leaning across the table to be nearer each other. She could only see Culber’s face from this angle, he was smiling warmly at Stamets. Sylvia sighed wistfully at the sight and left.  

  
  
  
  
  


\----- the next day -----

 

 

 

Sylvia saw her Padd light up, showing that she’d received a message from someone. She ignored it, she was nearly done with this simulation and it would be easier to just watch it to completion rather than let herself be interrupted. Just as she eased back into her rhythm the Padd lit up again. She sighed, pausing the simulation and turning to the infuriating machine.

 

She tapped the screen, turning it on. There was two unread messages, the start of the first message showing on the locked screen.  _ You've got to tell me what… _ It was from a personal number, one with no name attached yet. She thought she’d gotten her Padd to apply all the crew’s surnames to their codes to avoid this kind of unknown message. Oh well, she’d look into it later. She double tapped the box, opening the messaging system.

 

_ 048-3393-26-4 11:26 _

_ You've got to tell me what I did that pulled that noise from you this morning, it was downright filthy, Paul.  _

_ 048-3393-26-4 11:28 _

_ I keep hearing it, every time I close my eyes. _

 

Sylvia blinked, then started to reread it. She got halfway through before realising what she was reading. She quickly turned the screen off, her hands shaking. She had Lieutenant Stamets’ Padd, on his anniversary, and his husband was texting him. She thought quickly, trying to remember if there was a way to mark messages as unread. As she thought, the Padd lit up again. She looked at it, it was only natural, eyes are drawn to light, and found herself reading the first six words that appear in the pop up alert box.

 

_ You are stunning when you come... _

 

She needed to get this Padd back to it’s owner now. 

 

She looked up. Stamets looked busy, but not engrossed, so he wouldn’t be too unwelcoming to an interruption. She picked up the Padd, pointing the screen away from her, and walked over.

 

“Lieutenant, I think you took my Padd,” she whispered once she reached his station. Stamets held a finger up, still watching his screen closely. She waited, focusing on not letting her leg shake with nervousness. 

 

Stamets finished what he was doing, pausing the scroll of code. “What?” he asked, not rudely but not very politely either.

 

Sylvia held out the Padd. “There's a text here that's not for me, I think this is yours,” she said.

 

Stamets sniffed a laugh. “I’ve done that before, sorry,” he said, taking the Padd from her. He passed a different one back, presumably hers. 

 

“It's ok,” Sylvia said. Her voice was starting to squeak, she should leave soon. “Um, happy anniversary, Sir,” she said, turning and quickly walking away. 

 

She stood at her station, trying to get back into her simulation. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Stamets’ pale face look up from his Padd, staring directly at her. Unwillingly she looked at him, made eye contact, and blushed. He knew that she’d read the texts.  _ Sorry, _ she mouthed across the room. 

 

Stamets sighed, his shoulders moving with the exhale, and rolled his eyes. He turned and walked into the mushroom Cultivation Bay, already typing quickly into his Padd. It seemed like Sylvia would not be getting in trouble today. She turned back to her simulation, finding it much easier to focus now.

  
  
  
  
\----- later -----

 

 

Sylvia was reading through some of Ensign Everett’s code, just double checking for flaws. The code seemed squeaky keen, but it still wasn't producing results that made any sense. Sylvia sighed and leant back, resolving to read through again this time looking for broader logic and intention faults, maybe the issue wasn't character deep, but in the paragraphs. 

 

As she scrolled back to the top she noticed Stamets moving oddly. She focused on him for a moment. He was shaking his head and mouthing  _ No _ quite insistently. Sylvia followed his line of sight and saw Culber walking down the steps with a large box.

 

“You're early!” Stamets hissed, his voice carrying across the room. People stirred, looking up from their consoles at the interuption. Culber didn't falter, if anything he stood straighter and grew more smug at the attention. “That's not fair, I'm not ready yet,” Stamets muttered as Culber approached him.

 

Culber grinned, licking his lips briefly as he looked around the room behind him. He saw Sylvia and his smile widened. “Cadet Tilly, could you tell the Lieutenant what time it is?” He asked cheerfully, echoing the sentence hed said the day before at lunch when Stamets had gotten the date wrong.

 

“No!” Stamets said loudly. He walked around his terminal to the spore room door, unplugging his Padd from the cord he had it hanging from. “No, I'm coming now, I'll be just a moment.” He walked back towards his terminal, pausing by Culber's side to whisper, “Would you stop trying to involve her?” He nodded his head at Sylvia, who immediately realised that she had been staring at the whole interaction. She quickly looked down at her screen. She could still see them through it, but at least she wasn't staring directly at them.

 

“No need to rush, I'm early,” Culber said happily. 

 

Stamets’ arms fell to his side in shock. “I knew it, you-” he interrupted himself, noticing the box Culber was still holding. “What's this?”

 

Culber shrugged. “You said the spores are flowering, I thought we could sit near them.”

 

“You brought a picnic lunch.” 

 

“Yes, and it's quite heavy so I'd like to go set up now. Let me in?” 

 

Stamets nodded, walking in time with Culber towards the Cultivation Bay doors. Along the way he paused to put his Padd down, glancing at his terminal screen. He got distracted by something and stopped there while Culber kept walking.

 

A few moments passed as Culber watched Stamets working before; “Paul.” Culber sounded unimpressed.

 

Stamets stepped away from his console immediately “Ok, ok, I'm here,” he said, tearing his eyes away. He breathed on the entry pad quickly. Culber was about to walk through but he saw Stamets’ clear hesitance.

 

“Finish up, I'll be waiting,” Culber sighed. Stamets put a hand on Culber's upper arm briefly, showing his gratitude, and returned to his station. “Be quick, Paul!” Culber called as the doors closed on him.

 

Sylvia returned to her work, but she found she wasn't focusing properly. Stamets was at his station and it was oddly stressful for Sylvia, the idea that Culber was waiting for him. She could offer to help, but she had already innapropriately involved herself twice in the last twenty four hours. She decided to wait another minute, perhaps Stamets would join him shortly.

 

He didn't. A full two minutes passed before Sylvia decided to give in to her better nature and offer her assistance. She walked over quickly, irrationally trying to walk quietly so as to not draw attention to herself.

 

“Lieutenant, how about you tell me what you're working on here and I'll oversee it while you take your lunch break?” She whispered to him.

 

Stamets didn't look at her, resoonding as if on auto pilot. “No, it doesn't require supervision, it can just keep running.”

 

Sylvia bit her lip. “I can try and keep people out of the farm for thirty minutes?” She offered.

 

Stamets looked up, his expression confused and slightly offended. “Why are you getting involved?” He asked.

 

Sylvia fely some intense doubt beginning to creep in. “I feel like I've intruded and I'd like to make it up to you,” she muttered.

 

Stamets raised an eyebrow. “By intruding further?”

 

“The opposite!” Sylvia said quickly. “By ensuring you have some privacy.”

 

Stamets sneered, half rolling his eyes. He looked back at his console, tapping at a few more things. Sylvia was about to apologise when he turned back to her suddenly. She fell silent, his expression was much softer, more considerate.

 

“Forty-five minutes,” Stamets pitched. He seemed embarrassed, even defensive.

 

“Yessir,” Sylvia said immediately.

 

Stamets smiled for a moment and Stlvia thought she might burst with pride for having brought that on. “Thanks, Cadet,” he said. “Don't touch my terminal.”

  
Sylvia nodded, feeling her bun move with the force of her response as Stamets turned and left, quickly slipping through the doors to the Cultivation Bay. She had no idea if he liked her or not, but at least she'd managed to pull it back from him hating her. And now Stamets knew who she was and that could only be a good thing for her career.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written Tilly before so please forgive my characterisation if you think it's off. I tried to find a mix of career oriented and goal focused with her just inherently wanting to be a kind person. Also the fic is focusing on their anniversary not so much Tilly so I could've thrown more characterisation in but I didn't cos it was really about watching Paul and Hugh


	11. Just Hit The Floor, Culber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As part of induction you have to go to a prep session on how to handle long distance relationships when on a long term mission. Paul isn't interested at all.

“Hello everyone, my name is Doctor Chen. There's a lot of you here today! That'll be good for you in the long run.”

 

Hugh sighed quietly. He'd checked Chen’s credentials and she knew what she was talking about, but he would prefer to be assisting the transfusion team who were running a few simulations right now. They had psychiatrists onboard who could deal with the issues Chen was discussing today, but instead of letting that be they were spending half a shift here doing a group pre therapy session.

 

Chen was doing well to make the dynamic less distant, she had lit the space evenly and stood near the group of people, interacting personally when she could. Difficult when there was perhaps a hundred people to address. 

 

Hugh noticed Paul a few rows in front of him shift, pulling out his Padd. He hadn't even made it through her introduction without letting himself get distracted. 

 

“I'm a psychiatrist with a specialty in long term space flight.” Hugh looked back up at her, trying to listen in case she did say something not covered in his degrees. “Starfleet has asked me to assist in the induction program for first time long term mission crew. A lot of you have been with Starfleet for some time, if you're here it's because this is your first deep space mission of a duration longer than six months. It will be very different to what you're used to.”

 

Hugh's Padd vibrated in his pocket. He saw Paul turn to look at him and made a show of not reaching for his Padd. Paul could choose to not pay attention if he wanted to, but Hugh wouldn't be disrespectful like that. Paul looked back at his Padd. Hugh ignored two more vibrations in quick succession.

 

“My first piece of advice is to make friends,” Chen said, “Attend communal events, sit with someone at lunch. Remember, most of the people on this ship are in the same situation as you, they'll likely appreciate it as much as you do.”

 

Hugh's Padd went off a few more times, then Paul finally gave up.

 

“Secondly,” Chen continued, “Stay in contact with your family and friends at home, but don't let it dictate your behaviour on this vessel…” 

 

\----- after some time -----

 

Chen clapped her hands, breaking Hugh out of his reverie. “Let's break into smaller groups, ten to a group and my staff will come around and discuss any questions you may have and go through a few last things.”

 

Hugh stood up steadily. He came face to face with Paul, who had managed to beeline for him. 

 

“Check your Padd,” Paul muttered.

 

Hugh glared at him fondly for a second, but Paul didn't even blink, just stared back expectantly. 

 

Hugh pulled his Padd out, opening the seven unread messages.

 

_ How required is attendance to this? Can I just leave? _

 

_ It's not cute when you ignore me _

 

_ If you don't answer me Hugh, I'll just text Saru  _

 

_ Saru said I can't leave, so I need you to pretend to faint so that I can play worried husband and accompany you out  _

 

_ At least Saru texts me back when he refuses me, you're just stone cold _

 

_ I'm starting to think that we need something a bit more intuitive for the spore drive to remember the navigation. Because we can plug in whatever direction we want, but it needs to know every micrometer along the way which is too much. Maybe we could find a decent AI software that we could plug in and run through that, something with its own kind of problem solving software that could let some of the blank spaces between navigational instructions just be blanks. I think that's what's holding us back, we don't have the processing power to detail every step of the way and the mycelium network beers the detail. If we can override that we're set, and I think intuition would override that. Or maybe not.  _

 

_ Has anyone ever coded intuition? _

 

_ At some point you'll read these, when you do just hit the floor. You don't need to communicate when, I'll take the cue and come help my poor husband with low blood sugar or something. Does low blood sugar make you faint? Or does it just make you tired?  _

 

_ Just hit the floor, Culber, make it convincing  _

 

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Hugh sighed, turning and walking away from his surprised husband.

 

Paul followed him to a table, but Hugh made sure to sit between two other people so that Paul couldn't whisper to him about escape methods.

 

Hugh chatted briefly with the woman next to him before one of Doctor Chen’s team found their way to their table. 

 

He introduced himself as Doctor Rupasinghe and began to detail the purposes of the smaller groups. Hugh understood the two minute description to essentially mean preventative group therapy. Rupasinghe asked the table if anyone was willing to volunteer an example of someone they would miss from home. No one volunteered, they all just eyed each other uncomfortably. As Paul glanced at him, Hugh felt his Padd buzz with another received message. He ignored it.

 

As Hugh was resigning himself to talking about his mothers, Rupasinghe seemed to decide that this was the moment to engage the one member of the table who was blatantly not paying attention. 

 

“Lieutenant Stamets, who do you have at home that you will miss?” Rupasinghe asked. 

 

Paul jerked his head up, staring wildly at Rupasinghe, then Hugh, then back again, looking for an explanation. “What? Sorry, what?” He said quickly.

 

“Who are you close to?” Rupasinghe asked.

 

Paul paused. The light on his face changed as the Padd he held in his lap turned its screen off. “What?” He repeated, more calmly.

 

Rupasinghe sighed, one finger tapping the table. “Lieutenant, who do you love?” He rephrased.

 

“I- is this a trick question?”

 

“No, Sir.”

 

Paul stared at Hugh for a bit, then looked around the table warily. “My husband,” he said slowly, frowning at Rupasinghe for asking him a question so obvious. Hugh smirked.

 

“Thank you,” Rupasinghe said. “Marriages can be difficult on these voyages, a relationship across these sorts of distances and time zone differences can struggle. It's important to maintain open communication and find ways to stay involved in each other's lives.”

 

Hugh had managed to wipe his smile from his face while Rupasinghe talked. He spent a moment admonishing Paul silently, he hadn't been paying attention and was lucky the the visiting staff didn't know that Paul's husband was not only on the ship, but was at the table and definitely didn't qualify as a long distance relationship. Paul had looked back at him innocently, rolling his eyes at the situation. At least he hadn't gone back to his Padd and was actually listening to Rupasinghe. 

 

“Lieutenant, we've been on this ship for three weeks now,” Rupasinghe said to Paul, “Is there anything you would want to say to your husband at this point in the voyage?”

 

Paul stared at Rupasinghe. “I'm confused,” he said. Hugh sighed, Paul really wasn't paying attention. 

 

“If your husband were here, what would you say to him?”

 

“If my-” Paul repeated doubtfully. Then his tone changed, his voice tightened with amusement. “If my husband were here I'd ask him to stop ignoring my texts,” Paul said clearly. Hugh rolled his eyes, perhaps too obviously as the woman on Paul's left was beginning to look at him oddly. 

 

Rupasinghe smiled widely and nodded. “A breakdown in communication is very common in these situations. Your loved ones are accustomed to seeing you in person and may be subconsciously waiting to see you again before telling you what is happening in their lives. Video calls are a good way to overcome this.

 

“Lieutenant, I recommend searching your emotions and finding the words that describe how your feeling. Find a time to communicate clearly and kindly how you feel to your husband.”

 

“Sure, how's now?” Paul interrupted. He turned to Hugh and leaned forward, speaking with a false earnesty. “Hugh, you have abandoned me in my hour of need-”

 

“Would you cut it out?” Hugh hissed back.

 

“I ask one thing of you-”

 

“I am not going to pretend to faint so that you can get out of this, don't be ridiculous.”

 

“Ok, Lieutenant, I meant someone who is not on this ship with you,” Rupasinghe interrupted kindly. Hugh had to give him credit, he barely blinked at this interaction, clearly not caring enough to be bothered. 

 

Paul thought for a moment. “Nah, there no one I'm struggling to keep in touch with,” he said. 

 

Hugh wasn't going to let this drop without getting some of his own back. “Your mother, Paul,” he said. “She keeps emailing me asking why you won't call her.”

 

“It's not that I won't call her, I just don't have anything to tell her,” Paul said.

 

Rupasinghe raised his voice, still calm but not giving them the possibility of continuing to bicker. “It's important to ensure you're still there for the people who love you, try not to simply disappear from the lives of your family and friends for the duration of the mission…”

 

\----- after some time -----

 

Chen had called time eventually, ending the sessions. Rupasinghe hadn't bothered trying to get Paul involved again and Hugh had been more cooperative than he naturally would have by way of apology to Rupasinghe. At least one half of their marriage wasn't going to fail this seminar.

 

Paul didn't seem to notice that the room was standing and chatting more naturally, he was still seated, staring at the Padd in his hands. Hugh walked over, exchanging a few comments with the people he passed on the way. He reached Paul and put his hand on the side of his neck, drawing his attention. 

 

Paul glanced up at him, then looked at the room and put his Padd away. He stood quickly, facing Hugh. “It looks like a few people have tried to code intuition or something like it. Nothing I'd call a successful mapping, but good efforts. I have some emails to send,” he said. 

 

Hugh had been about to invite Paul to a coffee break with him, but he was clearly invested in this and was ready to get to work. So instead he just slipped his hand down Paul's arm and took his hand. “I'll walk you to Engineering?”

 

Paul nodded. Hugh let his hand slide from his grasp, following Paul at a professional distance. 

 

“Mum emails you?” Paul asked.

 

Hugh chuckled. “I exaggerated. She emailed me three days ago to get a second opinion on her ankle, she mentioned you in passing.”

 

“Her ankle ok?”

 

“I think so, the gout cleared up ideally and now they're just sorting out her physiotherapy. You should email her.”

 

Paul hummed, seeming to consider it. Their conversation moved back to intuitive artificial intelligence until they reached Engineering. Paul took Hugh’s hand briefly by way of farewell before leaving, muttering something about bring home in time for dinner. Hugh just smiled and let him go, thinking more about getting a coffee than anything else. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so I return! Writing culmets again! I will juggle my fandom s like a pro, watch this space  
> Also sorry the ending is a little lack luster, this has been in drafts for too long i just wanted it posted. And I'm not slaving over the fics in this series, I'm just enjoying myself


End file.
